


Flecks of Gold

by HeidiBug731



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Asexual Character, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiBug731/pseuds/HeidiBug731
Summary: Tabris visits Leliana after she's elected Divine. Love ensues. Fluff. Features my canon Tabris, Liara, who is on the ace spectrum.





	Flecks of Gold

Liara Tabris has never been happier to let her armor drop to the floor, the weight of it falling from her shoulders like all the years she’s been away. Leliana helps her with the rest of her clothing, tugging and pulling at her Warden uniform until nothing remains and she stands naked in the bed chambers of the Divine. 

Leliana ushers her to a large claw foot tub, and she sinks into it, the hot water offering instant relief to her tight muscles and tired joints. The bath oils smell wonderfully of eucalyptus and vanilla, and she breaths them in.  

“Now you just relax and enjoy yourself.” Leliana picks up a sponge, takes her lover’s hand, and begins to wash her.

“You’re not getting in?” Liara asks. 

Leliana shakes her head. “This is for you. This is your bath.” 

“My bath would be more enjoyable if you were in it.” 

The corners of Leliana’s lips twitch as she holds back a smile. “I suppose…” Without further debate, she strips, discarding her religious robes. 

The water surrounding Liara seems to dissolve. She is weightless, floating on air as she watches Leliana’s clothing fall to floor. It has been too long since she was privileged with a view of her lover’s body. She is struck with the urge to crawl out of the tub and worship her there on her knees with her lips on her skin.

But she doesn’t move, distracted by the sway of her lover’s hips as she walks toward her. Leliana climbs into the tub delicately, testing the water with a toe before stepping in. She sinks into the bath with her eyes half closed, head tilted back, her mouth open in a satisfied sigh, almost a moan. 

Liara lunges forward, sloshing water over the sides of the tub. She takes her lover into her arms and kisses her thoroughly. Leliana answers back just as eager. Their past hours were spent in useless posturing. The Hero of Ferelden and the Divine keeping up appearances, smiling, waving, never touching, withholding wanting glaces. But here and now they are just Leliana and Liara. There are no demands of the world upon them. They are together again after being apart for far too long.

“We are neglecting your bath,” Leliana says, breathless when she pulls away.  

Liara shrugs. She doesn’t feel she needs a bath any longer.

But Leliana picks up the sponge again. “Let me wash you, love.”

She does, lifting her limbs as Leliana instructs. She scrubs her skin until it’s pink and new, shedding layers of grime and calluses that hurried bathing out in the field could never attend to. When Leliana has scoured every inch and tended to every crook and fold, the water has turned murky.

“Not that I’m not enjoying our bath,” Liara says. “But this water is a little…” 

Leliana smiles. “We’ll have another bath drawn.”

They dress in loose fitting robes, and Leliana pulls a string by her large four-poster bed. Attendants enter, their eyes downcast. She requests the bath redrawn and food brought. The attendants go about their duties, never lifting their gaze. 

Liara doesn’t know if they refuse to look at Leliana because they are not allowed to gaze upon her in anything other than her holy garments or if it’s because of her. The Divine is not supposed to have romantic relationships. Do they avert their eyes because her presence is a sin against the Maker? Is this a game of pretending she doesn’t exist?

She does not ask Leliana. She would rather not know. 

Instead they lounge on her bed, feeding each other from a plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit. The attendants ignore them, emptying, cleaning, and refilling the tub. They leave the room, each one bowing as they go. 

They return to the bath, and Leliana insists on giving Liara a massage.

“What if I wanted to wash you?” Liara asks.

Leliana shakes her head. “I am already clean. Turn around.” 

She does begrudgingly, though her mood changes the instant Leliana’s fingers touch her back. She leans against the wall of the tub with a moan.

She’d forgotten the expertise of her lover’s hands. Leliana finds every knot, every tight muscle, and they surrender under her touch. Liara grips the rim of the tub for dear life. Every prod of Leliana’s fingers, every pinch at tight ligaments, the grinding of her knuckles into stubborn muscles – pain so intense Liara nearly cries out, but the release afterward is so incredible she’s left nearly sobbing into her own arms. 

Tears are running down her face when Leliana finishes, but her body has never felt so relaxed and relieved of the burdens it’s been forced to carry. Her lover comes up from behind, wrapping her arms around her and resting against her back. 

“Are you alright, love?”

Liara nods, “Yes.”

Leliana kisses her beneath her ear, trailing down her neck. Liara closes her eyes.

One of Leliana’s hands slides from her thigh, around to her backside, then toward her front where she slips two fingers inside.

Liara’s eyes snap open. “Leliana,” she breathes. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She presses another kiss into her skin. 

“No.”

Leliana pumps her fingers in slow gentle thrusts. She brings her other hand around to circle her lover’s clit, using a light pressure. Liara drops her head to her arms again.

Leliana keeps her movements steady, never changing pressure or speed. Her lips continue to kiss her lover’s shoulders. Soft, soothing pleasure washes over Liara like a balm to her tortured body, like this is a common final step to any properly administered massage. 

When she’s had enough, she turns around, forcing Leliana to remove her fingers. She wraps an arm around her lover, pulling her closer. She slides her free hand in front of her to rub between her lover’s thighs.

Leliana’s hands grip Liara’s shoulders. “This was,” she gasps. “Supposed to be for you.”

Liara smiles. “What part of making you squirm isn’t for me?”

Leliana whimpers but gives no further protest. Liara slips two fingers inside her and rubs outside with her thumb. Leliana throws back her head with a groan, spreading her arms to grip the sides of the tub. She bounces is time to Liara’s thrusting fingers, soft murmurs escaping her.  

It eventually becomes clear remaining in the tub is not an option. The water is oppressive, too warm against their heated bodies. And Liara worries moving too fast or too hard with the water may hurt. They climb out, rather ungracefully, trying to maintain momentum and tripping over each other onto the fur rug in front of the bed.

But it turns out as good a spot as any, Leliana clinging to Liara, bidding her to stay. She trusts faster, and Leliana writhes under her, her breathing hitching. Liara kisses her, traveling up her body to her lips where she captures her mouth. Leliana whimpers against her and rolls her hips, demanding more.  

Liara leaves her lover’s mouth and replaces her thumb with her tongue, lapping at her, still thrusting her fingers. Leliana’s nails dig into her shoulder.

She comes in a heavy cry, her back arching as she clutches the fur rug. Liara holds on to her lover’s thigh, keeping her tongue moving in slow strokes until the wave ends and Leliana is squirming under her, making tiny shrieks of protest.

She lets go with a chuckle, returning to her lover’s mouth for a kiss.

“Do you want me to do anything for you?” Leliana pants.

“That was for me.” She kisses her again. “Your rug is soaked.”

Leliana laughs. “I suppose it is.” She groans. “The attendants are going to hate me.”

“At least it wasn’t the bed.” She’s suddenly very aware of the cold water dripping down her back from her shoulder length hair. “What do you say to getting dry?”

Leliana sighs wistfully. “If you insist.”

They towel dry. Leliana steps to a closet and throws a silken thing at her. It’s a short gown, falling to mid-thigh with a deep neckline and thin straps over the shoulders.

Liara raises her eyebrows. How does the Divine have this in her closest?

But Leliana simply smiles and dons her own gown (pale orange to Liara’s light blue) picks up the food tray, and steps out onto the balcony.

They sit in reclined chairs gazing over the city of Val Royaux, the deep blue of the Waking Sea just visible over the rooftops. For a time, they simply feed each other from the tray, taking in the view.

Liara becomes distracted, turning her attention to her lover. Wisps of Leliana’s still-damp red hair waft in the warm breeze. The sun lights up her skin, making it glisten. She is beautiful. 

Leliana notices her lover looking at her, and a smile graces her lips. “I have something for you.”

She hurries back into her room and returns with a small round glass bottle filled with a golden liquid.

“It’s paint,” She explains. “It’s the current craze in fashion. People are using it to paint their hair and their clothes. I had a different idea.“ 

She removes the stopper from the vial and sits on the edge of her lover’s chair. "Give me your hand.”

Liara does as she says, laying her left hand into Leliana’s. Her lover removes a paint brush hiding behind her ear and places it in her mouth, wetting it to make a fine tip. 

She paints over every one of Liara’s scars, as numerous as Leliana’s freckles, starting at her finger tips and growing fewer as she travels over her wrist and toward her elbow. Each mark glistens in gold, dazzling in a way Liara has never seen them before. When she’s finished, Leliana blows on the wet paint, sending shivers over her skin. 

She does the second hand, then takes a ribbon, the same color of her dress, and wraps it with expert fingers. Twisting, knotting, crossing, wrapping her lover’s arm up to her elbow. Once she’s finished with the second arm, Liara turns them over, admiring them, as beautiful as if she were wearing a fancy pair of gloves.

“Do you like it?” Leliana asks.

Liara doesn’t answer. Instead, she pulls Leliana onto her lap and kisses her.  

“You are beautiful, love,” Leliana says when they part, leaning her forehead against Liara’s.

She isn’t beautiful. She knows this, despite Leliana’s words. There are dark veins under her skin that serve as a constant reminder of the taint within her. There are bags under her eyes from long nights and nightmares that will not let her sleep.

Her scars may be painted gold, but that doesn’t hide their origin, her life in the alienage, the death of her mother, the night she slaughtered everyone in the Arl of Denerim’s estate. To many in Val Royoux, she will never be anything more than a knife ear.

And as a Warden, her life will never truly be hers. She’ll never be free to travel wherever or visit whomever she wishes. But this woman on her lap makes a point every day they are together to make her forget all of that, to let it just be the two of them and to ignore the world knocking at their door.

And for that she is more grateful than she can find words to say.

“What is it?” Leliana asks, holding her face.

She takes her lover’s hands in hers. “Come to bed with me?”

Leliana smiles. “Always.”

They make the evening last as long as they can. Kisses and grasping fingers serve as promises that there will be other evenings just like this one. Sweat from their bodies causes flecks of gold to rub off on the sheets, their skin, and their hair. Liara removes the ribbons around her arms and, with Leliana’s help, binds their hands together, making their impassioned activities all the sweeter.

They fall asleep wearing them.

And days later, when Liara has to leave, she laces one of the ribbons into her boots and ties the other around Leliana’s wrist, leaving the excess hanging.

Leliana wipes at a steady stream of tears. “I never should have accepted,” she sobs. “If I hadn’t-”

“You’re needed here.” Liara tells her.

She shakes her head. “What Divine carries on romantic relationships? And with you…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, doesn’t need to. “They’ll have my election annulled within weeks.”

Liara takes her lover’s face in her hands. “You are the Chantry, Leliana. What they say is wrong that you view as right, is so. What they allow and you condemn, is law.” She kisses her forehead. “From the night you told me your view of the Maker, you became my religion. And now you are theirs. You just have to show them.”

Leliana stares at her, blinks, and pulls her lover to her to cover her in salty kisses.

Weeks later it’s with a blue ribbon tied around her wrist and gold flecks on her skin that she returns the Canticle of Shartan to the Chant.

And when the months pass and Liara returns to her once again, she declares all members of the Chantry, from initiate to Divine, should be allowed to engage in romantic relationships.

For love is one the Maker’s greatest gifts and should not be withheld.

**Author's Note:**

> [original tumblr post](https://liaragaming.tumblr.com/post/164291496413)  
>   
>  If I entertained you, consider [buying me a coffe](https://ko-fi.com/heidirs)  
>   
> Thanks for reading!


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